I don't have the funds required to satisfy this request. I spent everything on a beautiful hand made Dolce, and I lost it. It's probably in some back alley chop shop tailor right now, stripped for parts… You should have seen it; it was a real beauty, very Goodfellas/Godfather. It's a real shame. I really think I could…

Choose your words wisely, Winston. When we travel next time, it's up to you if you want to deprive yourself of delicious exotic delicacy, which I would be happy to pay for provided you return the favor with the respect I so demand from a man your age.

He is terrible. Last week, we were in Hawaii, and he snuck off with Jess to a hotel to engage in sexual intercourse, and he called us at 8 pm, four hours after we called him. What if Winston and I had been taken by rambunctious Hawaiian youths? What if they were our only outlet for help? Would it matter? No, because…

@avclub-e88c0c8f9affb4161e7ee2b4c67d9e62:disqus Stop agreeing with me! There's like, a very weird mental tennis match happening. It's very disorienting.

My douchiness? Being classy is not douchey, Brrr ig.

It wasn't my fault. It was all Winston. We were in a plane, and he wouldn't sit in his allocated seat, and I had to explain to him that this is America, not Europe, and we have rules here. And then someone handed me a croissant, which is a French crescent shaped food bread, and I had to eat it because it was just too…

That's completely-Ha! Jealous, because I'm not with Jess. Okay. Sure! Yeah! You got me.

Jess is like a sheltered, inexperienced woodland creature, innocently grazing in a field of land mines.

Schmidt-hood is an unteachable craft. An art. I just can't explain it. I'd need my laser pointer. A drawing tablet. A perspiration-free hand.

Okay, then gimme some specs. You know, your prefs. What are you looking for here? A little B.L.T.? Some R.R.R?

Nicholas and Jessica. Disgusting, disgusting human beings. Have they no shame? Oh, please don't tell me you all support this…this abomination. They must stop being so inappropriate. They're going to make me bring up that croissant I ate. This is literally the darkest hour of my life.

Nick Miller? Have you ever seen Nick do his laundry, or is it just me that always misses it? Every time he walks into the room, my nose is a goner. Now, me, on the other hand? Keys, pocket. Hair, coiffed. Scent, banging. Body, fly. I'm ready for anything.

Nick Miller? Have you ever seen Nick do his laundry, or is it just me that always misses it? Every time he walks into the room, my nose is a goner. Now, me, on the other hand? Keys, pocket. Hair, coiffed. Scent, banging. Body, fly. I'm ready for anything.

Schmidt logic, yo!

Well, of course it'll be a failure. Yesterday, I was hiding in Nick's closet to pay him back for that prank war he thinks I didn't know about a couple of weeks ago – I was trying to put hot sauce in his underwear – and then here they come into his room, and Jess says something about how cute he is, and Nick does that…

Nick dated this long-haired freakazoid for what, 6 years? So a decade. The V-day landscape isn't what it used to be. It's vicious now. Vicious. You and me, Goblin's Pants, we've developed what therapists would presumably call a bond, correct? So, our trust runs deep. Our trust is like a trench. Like a very deep,…

LOL, man, LOL.

Speaking of, here's a strategy for picking up women.

Here's a fish, L-Funks.

He never listens to my advice. I'm doing nothing wrong here. Any previous failures have hence proven to be the fault of the advicee, not the adviser.